Drop Dead, Fred
by redlamps
Summary: This is the fifth story in a series of short stories. It's a prequel to Courting With Disaster. Can be read as a stand alone. Steph has some...issues. A Babe story.
1. Chapter 1

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_A/N: __Thanks to everyone following this Series though I do think this story also works as a stand alone piece. I've loved reading your comments. A huge thanks to Alf, Haleigh.l, Bluzie, and Boy-o for editing and support! __I was going for something a little different here…hope it works._

_xx not mine, not making any money xx_

. . . . .

**Drop Dead, Fred**

. . . . .

**Chapter One**

* * *

Dear Fred,

Drop dead.

* * *

Dear Fred,

I hate you.

* * *

Dear Fred,

…

* * *

Dear Fred,

I'm just going to say right off the top that I'm writing this under duress. Personally, I think that this is a load of crap but I did promise Ranger I'd give it a try. I hate disappointing him.

My therapist thinks writing in this diary is a good way to get things off my chest. Seriously, does it look like I'm hiding anything down there? She thinks I keep my feelings bottled up…I think she should spend the extra seventy bucks and get her hair dyed professionally. We all have our little crosses to bear.

Sooo…um…how about those Phillies?

* * *

Dear Fred,

You're probably wondering why I call you Fred. Hmmm, well I guess the easy answer is I thought you looked like a Fred. I have nicknames for lots of my things. Take my car, for instance. I go through cars faster than Lester goes through single women in the Tri-State area. My current mode of transportation is a Ford Focus that I like to affectionately call 'That Worthless Piece of Shit'.

* * *

Dear Fred,

My therapist said the the theory behind this is that I'm supposed to have "the freedom to express myself in writing, without fear of recrimination." Humph, just so you know I'm doing a really great Burg eye roll here that's being totally wasted on you...

This is dumb. I still hate you.

* * *

Dear Fred,

_**This is the song that never ends,**_

_**Yes it goes on and on my friends,**_

_**Some people started singing not knowing what it was**_

_**And they'll continue singing it forever just because**_

_**This is the song that never ends**_…

Feel free to join in if you know the words.

Did you know my second grade teacher, Mrs. Crocker, told me I sing like a frog? I told her it was better than looking like a gorilla. She had lots of body hair. I ended up with a detention from the principal and was grounded for two weeks. Grandma Mazur took me to the zoo after that. She said she wanted to visit Mrs. Crocker's relatives in the Ape Display. Then we went to the ice cream parlour and ate the biggest sundaes they had.

Did I tell you that I love my Grandma?

* * *

Dear Fred,

I went shopping today. I bought Oreos. And laundry soap. Maybe next time I'll take a list. So, I'm wondering…how can a laundry detergent be both 'new' and 'improved'?

Daytime television sucks. I want to go back to work. I miss…the guys. Ranger said I needed to take some time off but I just want to be busy and forget…everything.

* * *

Dear Fred,

Oh my God! At the gala, David said he still loved Nikki and she said his lies destroyed their relationship and then they toasted their failed marriage and then she drank her ginger ale but David put some kind of drug in it and Nikki passed out.

Cane doesn't believe that Chloe is pregnant and Lily is pissed and said that Chloe can't break up her and Cane. Nick tried to get Sharon to help him go against Jack for the good of their cosmetic company but she refused.

Oh, and Michael got this call while he was dancing with Lauren at the gala and he told Victor—all secret like—that the _'package'_ had arrived so they rush out and left their wives thinking WTF.

* * *

Dear Fred,

My therapist thinks that I shouldn't watch daytime soaps anymore. She said it's not good for my mental wellbeing. Damn Ranger and his big mouth. So, I had a minor setback. Is it my fault that those bloody T.V. Executives decided to pre-empt _my show_ for some stupid sports thing.

I really don't see what the big deal was…it's not like I didn't need a new T.V. anyway and when I threw it over the fire escape I totally missed Mr. Letcher's car by a good foot…at least. Give or take. Well, the point IS that no one was hurt.

* * *

Dear Fred,

My therapist keeps mentioning my mental wellbeing and stressing the word 'mental'. I don't think she likes me very much. I think she got her degree from an online university in Taiwan and her boobs from a plastic surgeon…her nose too. It probably didn't help our patient/doctor relationship much that I let those little tidbits of information slip into today's session.

I read somewhere that _'the'_ is the most common word used in the English language. I thought I would do a little experiment so I counted how many times it was used in this book I was reading. Did you know the library doesn't like people using pink highlighter in their books? Not even for scientific research. Maybe books should come with warning labels…sheesh!

* * *

Dear Fred,

I missed my session today but it was sooo not my fault. Not really. I had five items I was watching on eBay and the auctions were closing. Everyone knows that most of the action goes down in the last thirty seconds and the fastest typist wins. The rush from winning is almost as good as sex. Almost. And since I'm not getting any sex I needed that rush, damn it!

Ranger stopped by my apartment just before the last auction was ending. He said my therapist called him when I didn't show up for my session today. He wanted to know why someone would need to buy five Magic Bullet blenders. I told him I was Christmas shopping…er…in July. Hey, you don't want these things to sneak up on you.

I promised him I wouldn't go on eBay anymore and he promised to take me shoe shopping…I can live with that.

* * *

Dear Fred,

I'm bored. My therapist said it would be good for me to get out and get some exercise so I decided to go for a walk today.

I miss Bob. Walking's no fun alone.

I know what you're going to say and I'll admit that this wasn't one of my brightest ideas. But Rex had these adorable big, black eyes and I started thinking that if I felt cooped up after only being home for one week, imagine how poor Rex must feel stuck in his cage for his whole life.

No, I'm not totally crazy…I'm a very responsible hamster mommy, I'll have you know. I got the shoe laces from all of my sneakers and made this cute little harness and leash for him.

At first the walk wasn't so bad. I showed Rex all around the neighbourhood. We just ignored the people staring and I pretended I didn't hear kids laughing and pointing at us. Rex is very sensitive.

Things took a turn for the worse though when we reached Jefferson Street and Rex managed to wiggle out of his harness. I blame the car pile-up on State bureaucrats at the Department of Transportation who don't do their jobs properly. Before they hand out driving licenses they should be testing people on defense driving skills. You never know when an animal on the loose being chased by its owner might dart out in the middle of a busy intersection.

My therapist thinks it might be safer if I got a hobby instead.

* * *

Dear Fred,

I've been thinking a lot about Bob lately and wondered if he missed me too. It must get lonely at _'that other place that he lives when he's not living with me'._

I bought Bob a present today and asked Carl to give it to him for me. Did you know they make movies for dogs to watch? See you're supposed to play the DVD when you're going out so your dog won't get lonely. I had a hard time deciding which DVD to get and finally went with a sure fire winner..."Squirrels Gone Wild". Huh, who knew they made porn for dogs.

Sooo, you're probably wondering how the hobby search went today…Well the good news is that I didn't get arrested. The bad news is that I'm not allowed within fifty feet of the Bonanza Bingo Palace. Damn, those old people take their Bingo seriously!

* * *

Dear Fred,

Mooner came over today. He's teaching me how to juggle. He said I'm a natural because Vulcans have good balance and I must have been a High Priestess who was separated from her Vulcan parents at birth and given to an Earth family to raise. He thinks my ears have been altered to hide my true identify and he showed me this cool Vulcan universal greeting with my hand. Mooner's good at making me smile.

I started off juggling with oranges but he said if I kept practising I would be able to move up to more interesting items. I wonder what Mooner considers interesting? I decided I could probably live without that knowledge.

* * *

Dear Fred,

Mom said she was too busy to teach me knitting after all…hehe.

She bugged me all week to come over so I could learn how to knit. I finally ran out of excuses so I dropped by this morning. I decided to knit a scarf for Ranger.

For some reason whenever my mom mentioned Joe, my job, my poor lifestyle choices or what the neighbours were saying about me I would get distracted and a knitting needle would accidentally stab her in the leg…_hard_. We didn't get very far in the lesson when my mom realized she needed to get something at the grocery store and had to leave immediately.

I stopped at Macy's on the way home to buy a scarf for Ranger instead.

Did you know they don't sell winter scarves in August? They had a really great sale on shoes though. It's the thought that counts, right?

* * *

Dear Fred,

I joined a Euchre Club in my building today. I saw a flyer in the laundry room so decided to give it a try. They meet every Monday afternoon. It was mostly fun as long as I wasn't partnered with Mr. Weidelmyer. He kept trying to get me to come to the Friday night sessions when they play Strip Euchre. I told him I'm busy Friday…indefinitely. I finally had to threaten him with my stun gun if he didn't stop playing footsie under the table and pretending he was just cheating.

* * *

Dear Fred,

I agreed with my therapist today that I wouldn't pursue any more hobbies that involved an open flame. Hey, it was a tiny kitchen mishap that could've happened to anyone. At least the Fire Department wasn't involved.

Mooner was disappointed when I called to tell him that I wouldn't be needing 'Mr. Babache's Juggling Flaming Pro Torch Set' after all. I told him he should probably cancel the order for 'Mr. Babache's Juggling Butcher Knife Set' as well. I think I'll stick with oranges.

Hey, Fred. Guess what?…I don't really hate you. Anymore.

* * *

Dear Fred,

What a skank! Ranger came with me to my session today to see if I was ready to go back to work. That slut of a therapist was all tarted up and spent the entire time coming on to him! I don't think she had more than two buttons done up on her shirt and if she touched his arm one more time, I was going to take her out, Burg style. It's not that I'm jealous. I'm not. Ranger and me, well we're just friends….we're good friends. It doesn't matter that Joe and I aren't together anymore…and **NO** I don't want to talk about Joe, so don't ask!

It's not that I don't want Ranger, but you have to understand, he doesn't _do_ relationships. I try not to read more into it when he accidentally brushes up against me or when he takes me out for ice cream and he lets me lick his cone and his eyes go really black. Or when we drive to Point Pleasant and watch the sunset. And, oh God help me, when he wears those jeans. Damn, I need sugar…

* * *

Dear Fred,

Miss me? I noticed you didn't write to see if I was okay. I'm feeling like what we have here is a very one-sided conversation and believe me I know about one-sided conversations. Oh I get it, you're more of a listener than a talker right? That's okay, I can do enough talking for the both of us.

So the reason I was away is…um…my friends had to do a little 'intervention' as they called it, after my last therapist appointment. Apparently, Lula told me that she and Connie had dropped by to visit and when there was no answer, they called Ranger. He and the Merry Men rushed over and had to break down my door. Of course one of my nosy neighbours called the police, who called the Paramedics and the Fire Department. They found me on the bathroom floor passed out…said it was an overdose.

I've spent the last two days detoxing at Ranger's apartment. Everyone looks at me funny now like I'm on the edge and Ranger has people frisked before they are allowed to visit me. He's afraid they're bringing me illegal contraband.

I don't care what my mother says…this was so not my fault. There should be a warning on the packaging, like they have for cigarettes and prescription drugs. Who knew you could pass out from eating too many Tastykakes.

Hey the good news is, I'm staying with Ranger on the seventh floor now and I'm sleeping on his heavenly sheets. He got me a lap top to use so I can talk to you. Oh, and he got me a new therapist.

* * *

Dear Fred,

Tom asked about you today. He's my new therapist. I like Tom. Tom doesn't ogle Ranger's butt when he picks me up from my sessions. I don't think...

I told him about our 'talks'. He said that a diary could be a good friend but that I wouldn't get better unless I faced my problems head on.

Tom said he thought maybe hobbies weren't my 'thing' and that what I needed was to feel useful. We decided that I would go back to work on a part-time basis.

* * *

Dear Fred,

I started back at RangeMan today doing computer searches on the fifth floor. The guys were great and had flowers and sugar-free treats waiting for me at my desk this morning. I didn't get much work done because they kept coming up with lame excuses to drop by my cubicle. Did you know that Merry Men are great at giving hugs? Ranger said it was okay that I didn't get much work done today. He gives great hugs too.

I talked to Mom today. Sigh. Do you remember I told you about one-way conversations? I swear she didn't take a breath for the entire time we talked though I can't be sure…five minutes into her tirade I put the phone receiver on the table and took a shower. She was just winding down by the time I picked up the phone again. Yeah, it was probably one of our more meaningful conversations.

Ranger offered to send her on a one-way trip to a Third World Country. I told him that I had it covered. I sent a flyer for 'Friday Night Strip Euchre' to Grandma Mazur. Anonymously.

* * *

Dear Fred,

Tom talked a lot today about how some people used avoidance as a coping mechanism to deal with stressful or difficult situations. Tom's was wondering when I was going to tell you about Joe…

* * *

**_To be continued..._**

_A/N Yes, there really is a DVD called "Squirrels Gone Wild". I bought it for my dogs a few years ago. Heavy on squirrel porn, light on plot._


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: A huge thanks to Alf, Haleigh.l, Bluzie, and Boy-o for editing and support! _

_xx not mine, not making any money xx_

. . . . .

**Drop Dead, Fred **

. . . . .

**Chapter Two**

* * *

Dear Fred,

Tom suggested volunteering my time to a worthwhile cause might also help me feel useful. I took his advice and started helping out at the **Sisters of Ignatius Relief Fund** today. I spent the morning canvassing door-to-door for donations which was lots of fun. My bounty hunting skills really came in handy. I offered to show the other volunteers some of my take-down techniques that resulted in such generous donations but Sister Mary-Elizabeth said she thought it would be better if they stuck to more tradition methods of requesting donations.

Anyway, the Sisters must have been really impressed with my work because I've already been promoted! Now I'm in charge of the entire Advertising Distribution Department. Well, I'm the only person in my department but it's still an important position. Mostly, I'll be stuffing envelopes.

Ranger says he's looking forward to watching me work but I don't know how me licking envelopes would be very exciting. He's so selfless in his support. He said that's what friends do for each other...or did he say '_to each other'_...hmmm...nah.

* * *

Dear Fred,

I was reading about this alternative form of therapy called 'Sexual Healing'. I asked Tom if he thought he could work it into my recovery. He said he didn't swing that way but then I told him I had someone else in mind. Tom said maybe I should continue working on my friendships and the rest would fall in place when I was ready. I didn't bother telling him that a certain body part disagreed. Loudly.

Instead I stopped at Walmart on the way home and bought Ranger a new shower massager. I told Ranger I wanted to do something nice for him and a massager was an effective way to help relieve…tension. After squirming in my chair through supper, Ranger said I could try out the new shower massager first because it looked like I really needed some…tension relieved.

I didn't tell him that I nicknamed his new shower massager, 'Rrrricardo'.

* * *

Dear Fred,

Have you ever heard of 'Scream Therapy'? Okay, get your mind out of the gutter…I don't mean screaming things like 'Ranger, you're a sex god. Take me now, damn it!' I read about it on the internet. It's a kind of psychotherapy that uses screaming as a tool to release anger and frustration, with the goal of improving one's emotional wellbeing.

Yesterday at breakfast, I was telling Ranger about Scream Therapy and I told him if I tried it, people in the Burg would really think I was nuts. _Yeah, like that'd be anything new._

Well, after work Ranger had a surprise for me. He drove me to this isolated cabin and we took turns screaming our heads off. It felt great to blow off steam but I don't think I'd want to do it on a regular basis. Too many mosquitoes. And we probably scared the crap out of poor Bambi.

After, Ranger built a camp fire and we talked late into the night. He's so sweet and thoughtful…he even brought hot chocolate in a thermos and the stuff to make s'mores. Ranger likes his s'mores without the marshmallow…or the chocolate.

It was a great night. Sigh. I know, I know! _We're just friends, just friends…_Do you think if I say it enough times, I'll actually convince myself?

* * *

Dear Fred,

There's a saying, 'the truth shall set you free'. That seems like a noble motto to live by, right?

Yeah, well not so much.

I talked to Tom today about how I often hide my real feelings and tell people what I think they want to hear. It got me thinking. I decided to try a little social experiment and only tell the truth for the rest of the day.

This was one of those 'What the hell were you thinking ideas' that I often get. And act on. Impulsively. Not thinking it all the way through. When I would have been better off staying in bed. Without a phone.

It started off with Lula asking, "Does this skirt make my ass look big?" After a quick "Hell ya" I ran out of the Bond Office with my hand clasped over my mouth before Connie had a chance to ask what I thought of her new hair colour.

The day went progressively down the toilet as I managed to offend everyone from the teller at the bank to Father Albert who obviously had a very unsuccessful appointment at the' Hair Club for Men'. I knew come Sunday I was in for a whole heap of Hail Mary's and a donation of fifteen year old scotch to Father Albert's private stock.

Just when I thought the day couldn't get any worse, Mom phoned. She wanted to tell me that Joe was seeing Terry Gilman again and everyone in the Burg agreed that I let a good catch get away and he was the best thing that ever happened to me and I really blew it this time. I told Mom that if she thought Joe was such a prize maybe she should just do him herself since he'd done practically everyone else in the state of New Jersey. Like I said...I should have stayed in bed. And never answered my phone.

My new motto now is 'why ruin a perfectly good lie with the truth'.

* * *

Dear Fred,

I told Tom about my little experiment yesterday and he said that sometimes the truth can hurt. Huh, _NOW _he tells me...and to think he gets paid two hundred and fifty bucks an hour to dish out those words of wisdom...after the fact. Where was he when I was stepping in it and dragging it all over Trenton? Good thing RangeMan's medical insurance covers therapy.

Hmmm, two hundred and fifty bucks an hour...over an extended period of time, could add up to a lot of shoes. I wonder if I could ditch Tom and write 'Jimmy Choo' under 'Name of Therapist'. Shoe therapy...yep, works for me now if only I could convince Ranger.

Where was I? Oh, I remember...I was telling you about Tom. Well, he said that sometimes just writing down your feelings somewhere private is a good way to let go of frustration and anger rather than letting the feelings build up and up until you can't take it anymore and you-. Well, the best part of this is, no one gets their feelings hurt and property doesn't get destroyed. And the police aren't involved.

So, I hope you don't mind if I write a few letters here to some people who have been on my mind lately...I know you can keep a secret.

* * *

_A/N Okay, you have to use your imagination here. All the parts below that are in brackets, unbolded and in italics would have been typed using 'strikethrough' if only it would let me! You know that cool feature on word processing programmes that makes typing look like it was crossed out with a straight line? Yeah that's the one, so use your imagination and now back to our regularly scheduled story..._

* * *

**Dear Ranger,**

**Your friendship means a lot to me. I would like to take this opportunity to thank you **_(__by offering my body for you to ravish)_ **for always being there for me. I wish I could find a way to repay your kindness but as you always say, there is no cost for what we have between us. **_(Are you sure you wouldn't consider some hot monkey sex as a down payment?)_

**You have become the best **_(lover)_ **friend I've ever had. I wish you **_(would let me bear your children or at the very least how about tying me to your bed for a twenty-four hour period and having your wicked way with me)_ **only the best. I just wanted to tell you that I love you **(with all my heart and wish you felt the same about me) **like a friend.**

* * *

**Dear Mom,**

**Do you remember when I was small we used to sing "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" before I went to bed? And do you remember how I would always make a wish? I still do that, you know, make a wish before I go to sleep.**

**Here's my wish list:**

**I wish you would **(jump in the nearest lake some days) **accept me for who I am. I'm an adult now and I think you need to let me make my own mistakes. **

**I wish you could be proud of who I am even though I know you're disappointed with my life choices. **

**I wish I could be happy being a Burg housewife or working at the tampon factory like you want me to, but it's just not who I am **(and I gotta tell you Mom, really is your life so great when you can't seem to get through the day without your good friend, Jim Beam? People who live in glass houses...if you get my drift).

**I wish you knew that in spite of everything I love you **_(and I also want to remind you that I will be choosing your nursing home in the not so distant future. Something to keep in mind!)_

* * *

**Dear Mr. Valduchi,**

**I wanted to apologize for getting upset at the grocery store today. I understand the concept of 'ten items or less' in the Express check-out line **_(is probably beyond your pea brain intellect)_ **could be difficult for someone who, as you say, has a poor grasp of the English language **_(in spite of the fact that you were born, raised and have lived in the United States for over seventy years, dick head)._

**I'm sorry for my rash behavior and I sincerely apologize for any embarrassment I may have caused you **_(as well as any future embarrassment that may occur when I let it slip to your wife that you were buying dirty magazines along with the other gazillion items you had in your very full shopping cart). _

**There are some great English as a second language courses offered at the Seniors Center you might want to look into in the future **_(so when you try to shovel your way out of the shit you're going to be in with your wife, she just might believe you when you say you only read Playboy for the articles)._

* * *

**Dear **(_Pond Scum Sucking Dirtbag_) **Joe,**

**I'm writing this letter to apologize for my behaviour the last time I saw you. I'm sorry **_(you're a lying sack of shit who can't seem to keep his dick in his pants) _**things didn't work out between us. I feel terrible for embarrassing you at Pinos and causing a scene in front of your friends and co-workers **_(although really you should thank me. The pictures I handed out of you in compromising positions with various women were actually very generous to you. The photos added only about five pounds and in your case at least three inches...I would know). _

**I'm sorry about your truck**_, (and the big truck sized hole in your garage door...NOT!)__**. **_**I hope the damage wasn't too extensive. Oh and I'm also really sorry about all of your clothes **_(but damn... they made one hell of a bonfire. I should've brought marshmallows). _

**Thank you for deciding against pressing charges** _(though I'm sure it had more to do with a certain photo of you and the Mayor's wife in Ranger's possession than any concern you might have for my wellbeing). _**I'm glad you weren't injured; I was as surprised as you were that the gun was actually loaded. As per your agreement with Ranger, I am seeing a therapist to help me deal with my 'anger' issues **(too bad you can't do anything about your 'I'm a jerk' issues).

**I cherish the time we spent together and will think of you often **_(...yeah, how about everytime I go to the doctor over the next six months to get checked for STDs? Thanks, asshole!)._

* * *

Dear Fred,

Go figure, Tom was right. I do feel much better after writing all that stuff down. Writing to Joe in this diary though did seem like a waste of a perfectly good letter, so I might have possibly made a copy of his letter and mailed it to him.

I think it's pretty safe to say that the chance for a reconciliation would be 'not in my next three lifetimes'. Funny thing is, I've never felt better!

* * *

Dear Fred,

I had an epiphany today. No, it wasn't at Tom's office; it was actually at the Super-Fresh Grocery Store. In the packaged meats and cold cuts department to be exact.

At the time, Grandma Mazur was arguing with the store manager over hotdogs, of all things. She said she refused to pay for a package of twelve hot dogs when they only sold hot dog buns in packages of eight. I'll admit that at first I was embarrassed that Grandma was making a scene and was worried about how fast this little incident would be hitting the Burg grapevine and ultimately, my mom.

Grandma had the gathered crowd riled up and chanting with her as she stood above us in the refrigerated bin amongst the various kinds of salami yelling with her fists raised in the air, 'Give me liberty or give me death'.

While I was watching her, a Rolling Stones song popped into my head. **"You can't always get what you want..." **I looked up at Grandma and thought about how she has always stood up for herself, not caring what others think of her.

Well Mick, I've gotta tell you, "You can't always get what you want?" The hell you can't!

I left Super-Fresh with a bag of groceries and a new outlook on life. Grandma? She left the store with a smile on her face and exactly eight hot dogs to go with her eight hot dog buns.

* * *

Dear Fred,

I know it's been a while since we last talked but as it turns out, Ranger's a really good listener too.

I've been pretty busy with Ranger and the guys. They've been training me and I'm finding lots of great ways to release my pent up feelings that, you'll be happy to know, won't get me arrested. Who knew all it would take was putting Joe's face on those little paper targets, to improve my enthusiasm and aim at the gun range. Oh, and Joyce's face on the punching bag...well that was pure genius. What a work out!

On a gentler note, Tank's been teaching me yoga and meditation. I don't really understand all of the things he's been trying to teach me about trees in forests, and chakras and auras but he does serve yummy cookies and milk after each session.

Oh, and I think you'll be happy to know that I've also decided to take a page out of Grandma Mazurs's book and go after what, or I should say, who I want. See, I knew that would make you happy!

So...Fred, I guess I'm writing to tell you...good-bye. Don't be sad; it means I'm coping better with my life, right? You've really helped me, and I'll always be grateful. If it makes you feel any better, I'm not seeing Tom anymore either. I know I gave you hell when we first met but, you've come to mean a lot to me and I'm going to miss you. Don't look at me like that, or I'm going to start bawling here...

Hey Big Guy? If you're ever lonely—and you swing that way—I have a friend I'm hoping is going to be just as lonely in the very near future. I think I've mentioned him before...his name is Rrrricardo.

I could introduce you…

* * *

**The End**


End file.
